The price of life is balance
Tis’ not too much to pay
I am the Grim Reaper
A tax collector, so to say
Like petals on the flower
And the ugly toad under
I take.
To the state before Birth through Decay
When thou time is up, there is no delay
Let’s see who is next
Little Chloe, on the hospital bed
Diagnosed with a rare condition
Splendid.
Through the pale walls I enter, and Chloe was awake

‘Who are you, mister?’ said Chloe

‘How in the blazes do you see me! Pardon me, young lady, I am the doctor’

‘Oh hello! I’ve never seen one in black before. What are you holding?’ said the annoying child.

‘It is a scyt…pair of scissors’ I lied

‘Goodie, come make origami with me!’

‘Origami-shinigami, sheesh!’ I groaned

It is never easy to take the life of The Innocent
Surely one who could stare Death in the eye
Is more grim than I could ever be

The battle-hardened maiden descends in her regal gait,
As clanks of clamouring steel subsides,
Crimson soaked marshes sprawling with death,
Twitching bodies ensuing after shattered heads,
Entrails entwined on broken blades,

She counts the spent bitterly with her cherry lips,
As her battalion sings in praise at the fallen dead,
Golden chariots and white steeds prepare the voyage,
Ferrying Vikings to Valhalla for an eternity of songs & mead